


Bathing, Praxus Style

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: Summer Days Prompts [6]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Bath Houses, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: With the war over, survivors from various city-states try to make part of their culture and customs live on. Cue the opening of Praxus-style baths in Iacon...





	Bathing, Praxus Style

**Author's Note:**

> Because I was overcome with the weird notion of introducing communal baths in a TF fic that haven't come around. I started with the idea, what if Praxus and/or Vos used to have Japanese style baths -- and later went onto the idea of Roman-style baths for Kaon. Hopefully those are notions I can develop and use in later projects style.

“Fancy,” Jazz whistled as he followed Prowl around. Now, the Praxian wasn’t very demonstrative but the Special Ops Head was sufficiently fluent into Prowl-speech and admittedly, in basic wing and doorwing language to be fairly certain that this particular doorwings flap signified amusement.

“Hardly,” Optimus’ Second commented and Jazz was certain he was smiling, even if he couldn’t actually see it since Prowl didn’t have the good taste to turn his head toward him. “It is a standard built for that kind of establishment, nothing that Praxus inhabitants would call ‘fancy’.”

Behind his visor, Jazz’s optics wandered right and left, taking in every detail. Praxus baths had always been renowned across Cybertron and he could remember seeing ads for them everywhere when he had still been a tiny Sparkling barely reaching his Creator’s knee. Who hadn’t heard of the Praxus Crystal Cascade Baths and their retractable roof, allowing the patrons to bath in the open air or under the stars, for example? Praxus was one of a handful of city-states which had had a tradition of communal bathing instead of relying on individual washracks. Part of it, as far as Jazz understood, was because of their doorwings; the cleaning of the appendices demanded care and wasn’t something one could do by himself. As such, Praxian bathhouses patrons loosely worked with the system of ‘you do mines, I’ll do yours’, which none of them had ever complained about. They also had that etiquette about cleaning yourself with solvent first before being allowed to soak into a wonderfully warm bath, something very specific to the Praxian mindset; the bath had to stay clean for everyone.

With the city’s destruction during the war, most of the traditions had been lost. However, surviving citizens had been determinate to make sure the culture of Praxus lived on and a few small bath establishments had opened in the reconstructed city. Iacon boasted two, this one included, and Jazz knew Smokescreen and Bluestreak had been over the moon about their opening. Prowl had been more reserved in his reactions but for someone who knew him, it wasn’t hard to see he was pleased. And whatever pleased Prowl tended to please Jazz too.

With all the fuss, he had expected a very opulent décor but no; instead, the walls were almost bare, simply adorned with a few shelves on which rested crystals blooms of the musical kinds, humming in harmony and creating a soothing sound as the progressed through the lobby. That, Jazz did dig; he wouldn’t have been against a faster tempo but to relax in a bath, it would do nicely.

So, no pricey artworks to show off to the clients. No plush carpet either nor expensive minerals for the floor, just solid, shiny alloy which didn’t feel too rough or too slippery under his pedes. Everything was painted a cheerful shade of yellow with white and red accents here and there. Plusy seats had been disposed everywhere in the lobby by little groups of four, all around low tables, all holding a single bowl of crystal full of little energon treats. Prowl might not have thought it was fancy but for Jazz, it was already very classy. “Are all the bathhouses in Praxus like that?” he asked curiously.

Prowl nodded. “They are. Though the color scheme and the furnitures were chosen with Iaconians taste in mind; Praxus seats are usually backless and bathhouses favor more neutral colors in their decoration as to not clash with the paintjobs of their patrons.”

“Ah. Very thoughtful,” Jazz commented as he lifted his gaze while Prowl stopped in front of a counter and talked with a bathhouse employee, a Praxian too with big red eyes and a smile that could have rivaled Bluestreak’s. Various holographic signs in Praxus’ standard glyphs hung over the receptions along with arrows pointing toward different ends of the lobby. “What are these for?” he asked with a nod, knowing pointing with his finger would be discourteous – Prowl had drilled Praxian etiquette into him before taking him out.

Prowl finally glanced at him as he finished paying for both their entries. “Traditional Praxian baths usually separate the patrons into two categories.”

“What, into the whole ‘Femmes and Mechs’ like the humans.”

“No, into Protectors and Protected. It’s an old tradition dating back from the founding of Praxus,” he explained. “Back when the city first settled, the only way to clean yourself was by going to a spring. Sadly, the area wasn’t lacking in predators; mechanimals of various types, brigands… As such, Praxians always went to clean up in group and formed a circle to do so, with Sparklings and Carrying mechs at the center, where they could easily be defended. The modern form of the Praxian bathhouse, which is made of two rings of pools, was inherited from it. The outer ring is for single, adult mechs above and under a certain age limit and dominant mates; the inner ring is for Bonded, submissive mates, Carriers, elderly mechs and Sparklings and Younglings.”

“I dare to hope you don’t consider putting me in the second category,” Jazz half-joked and half-threatened, making Prowl snort.

“You and I aren’t Bonded, are we? Besides, I need someone I trust at my back.”

Oh dear Primus on a pogo stick! “Was that joke? Please tell me it was a joke,” Jazz begged. Prowl just smirked and Jazz pouted. “Damnit, Prowl! Don’t surprise a mech like that!”

“Oh, I promise you’ll have plenty of surprises before we’re done,” the doorwinged mech chuckled.

“I’ll hold you to that, my mech. I’ll hold you to that.”


End file.
